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TW: miscarriage, broken leg

still and quiet - almost eerily so     Howling River     Evening

BWP i still feel your touch in my dreams

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staulwart
Dawnbreak (Guardian of Courage)
Statistics
Species
Timber Wolf

Sex
Male (Male)

Age
4

Height
Very Tall

Weight
Heavy

Build
Athletic

Eyes
Golden

Fur
Blacks and silvers

Scent
Pine trees with a hint of fresh mint

Oddities
Scarring on his left shoulder

Writer

Posts

Threads

determined, responsible, proud
#1
 
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skill: heartbroken (1/5)
— shuffle blessed me with a banger when I started this thus the threadname LOL

He had been unable to find Hilde. The dread weighed down every step, but he could not stop. He had found no trace of her, and she did not need a keeper, but the loss of her presence after having her back for such a brief time chilled him to the bone. It was unfair. It was cruel. Surely, certainly, whatever fates had woven Mythris together would not part them so quickly after the lengthy separation of their worlds.

Vidarr tended to stay in the snow, and it gradually ebbed into a thicket. Vidarr was slow as he edged around the treeline. Every few steps, he would stop. Checking for any trace of her anywhere, though, he was quickly losing all hope. He had lost time and time again. Tiberius, Olive, Kaldrvegr, Genghis, Eira, Ormr, Hilde, Duskguard. How much more could they all take? Dawnbreak was fortunate to still have each other, and Vidarr was appreciative of that.

He breathed out a heavy sig and carried on, unaware that nearby, Svajone was on her own journey. He still thought of her often, of the date they were still owed - of trying to show her how much his gratitude after she had saved him from burning to a crisp. Perhaps if he saw her again, he would ask her to name the mess on his shoulder. Without her, it would surely have been his life. He had taken on a polar bear, Winterscar tried to claim her. They had both pushed past what might have been expected of them. A normal sane wolf might not attacked the massive beast, a normal sane wolf might not have risked their own wellbeing shoving burning beams off another.

Despite being 'even' in the sense of a life for a life, it felt like something much stronger too. Vidarr could not claim to understand the way Mythris was. Taking some, offering others. The Viking could only continue with the hopes of finding more. Finding something. He was losing daylight, but he found sleeping in the empty den was a miserable experience. He would not rest. Peace would not find him. Not now. Something smelled strange and lingered in the air. He could not place it, he wasn't familiar with the toxicity of the waters nearby.
[Image: wiZCyB.png]
Halloween 2025
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i still feel your touch in my dreams - by Vidarr - 10/19/2025, 5:48 AM

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